ZydecoChaCha

My artworks....http://www.redbubble.com/people/zydecochacha

Of different things in Cyprus...

On the way to Cyprus men pass by a place that is called the Gulf of Cathaly, which was once a great and fair country, and there was a fair city in it that was called Adalia.  And all that country was lost through the folly of a young man.  For there was a beautiful damsel whom he loved well, and she died suddenly and was laid in a tomb of marble; and on account of the great love he had for her he went one night to her grave and opened it and went in and lay with her and then went on his way.  At the end of nine months a voice came to him one night and said, "Go to the grave of that woman and open it, and behold what you have begotten on her.  And if you go not you shall have great evil and suffering."  And he went and opened the grave, and there flew out a very horrible head, hideous to look at, which flew all round the city; and forthwith the city sank, and all the district round about. - The Travels of Sir John Mandeville

The Gravelly Sea...

And beside Acre runs a little river, called the Belyon, and near there is the Fosse of Mynon, all round, roughly a hundred cubits broad; and it is all full of gravel.  And however much be taken out in a day, on the morrow it is as full as ever it was, and that is a great marvel.  And there is always a great wind in that pit, which stirs up all the gravel and makes it eddy about.  And if any metal be put therein, immediately it turns to glass.  This gravel is shiny, and men make good clear glass of it.  The glass that is made of this gravel, if it be put back in the gravel, turns back into gravel, as it was at first.  And some say it is an outlet of the Gravelly Sea. - The Travels of Sir John Mandeville

Of Saint John the Evangelist...

In the tomb of Saint John many find nothing but manna, for some men say his body was translated to Paradise.  And you must understand that Saint John had his grave made there while he was alive and laid himself in it alive; and therefore some say he did not die, but rests there until the Day of Judgement.  And indeed there is a great marvel, for men can see the earth of the tomb many a time stir and shift, as if there were a living thing underneath... - from The Travels of Sir John de Mandeville

St John's Passion

Found Poem (Derwent Valley, Tasmania)

 

A place called ‘Fatigue Can Be Fatal’;

Sleeping Beauty from the ugly side;

we sang ‘Someone’s in the kitchen with Dinah!’

with harmonies;

deer antlers for sale;

old postcards;

a roadside paddock full of lupins…

they smell like peas;

‘Swallow’s Nest’ right next to the river;

briar roses;

hops;

a hopfield called

 

‘Jungle’.   

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Li Ayyi Sabab Uhjar أمينة العلوي - لأيّ سببٍ أهجر

Your virile poison has almost drained away

from my swollen veins;

the fat red cushions on my wicker chair

are red once again;

the ripped leaves of the monstera plant over there-

heart-shaped and green;

this sultry music – daf, zarb, ud and violin-

pleases me once again;

my morning coffee is strong, sweet

and bitter, as it once was;

dear Saturday is just Saturday;

the sky is merely blue;

time is kind and gentle;

the shadows of leaves flicker on the ceiling-

(those changeable cherry leaves that I cherish).

 

Your twisted poison has drained away

into a blue and white bowl

and good blood flows untangled in me, at last.

My heart is pure

(just as my friend, Ali Qarandari, wished for me,

touching his breast)…

my heart is pure and all else is flowing sweet

from that.

My heart is pure again,

and Amina Alaoui soothes me,

as a mother or a sister might soothe,

pressing my face against her resonating breast

and stroking stroking stroking my hair…

stroking stroking stroking my hair

  

Amina Alaoui

Jäegermeister

A bedroom full of seagulls,

and my reclining nude

is a white gull

with a broken wing.

 

A room full of white,

and the white breast of the woman

looks like a disjointed pinion.

- It is the Jaegermeister painting, I told him…

 

..and it was the truth-

the background colours:

Tarkovsky green and a deep scarlet-orange

both taken from the label and the glass.

 

That was a day to remember,

when I showed him the bottle.

He climbed onto the bench

to reach for shot glasses

 

I squeezed his tiny arse cheeks,

and the smallness of them

nearly broke my heart.

That was the day, alright.

 

Afterwards, I felt like 100% Irish linen

and crocheted lace.

I felt like my initial was embroidered

in my corner.

 

I felt blessed, cleansed,

starched, ironed,

folded and put away

with dried rose petals.